Monday, February 11, 2008

where does it end and where does it begin again

I was totally robbed of the intrinsically relaxing sigh that comes from within when you finally reach the week-end. No, the seemingly democratic "evil-doers" of the world did not officially manage to revoke Bushes tax cuts AND make us work 8 days a week - but I did anyway. I had a cycling training from 730am-5pm Saturday and Sunday. Needless to say MY PARTS HURT. I use term this term inclusively and as a metaphor for my 'nether region' because 1. ALL of my parts hurt, muscles, skin, head, feet and 2. My nether regions hurt mega bad. I did probably burn over 60,000 calories and received great instruction from a 40 year old man who shaves all of his body hair.

Actually the term weekend now generates a cognitive dissonance that I've never had before. It used to give me that warm melty feeling of sleeping in or lying on the couch or possibly going to dinner and a movie with FI and then staying up until 230am talking and laughing in bed. It now feels like just another two days. Two days in which FI will be locked in the basement of a stale library shoving information in his brain at an inhumane pace, only stopping to eat meals - which usually need to be prepared by me at a certain time - then off again to basement hell. I on the other hand have the opportunity to get up at 8am on Saturday and teach cycling at the gym. After my sweat session I will go home, shower, and either sit around wishing I was hanging out with FI, beg one of my friends who also don’t have a life to hang out with me or I can run all of the errands we don’t have time to do during the week. Not fun stuff either, mundane stuff like pick up the dry cleaning, depositing checks in the ATM or ordering flower girl charms. My most unfavorite of such aforementioned crap-tasks has been returning stuff left over from the blessed 12/25 without a receipt. I then proceed to read the Internets for three hours and go to bed. Sunrise on Sunday finds me driving downtown to teach the booger tweezers.

Now that the backside of the work week is a total enigma, I must escape to my happy dreams where we are married, FI is finally a doctor, our kids are of legal drinking age and after spending Monday thru Friday on a beach in the Caribbean, we are off to Vegas for the weekend. TGIF.. no, let's try TGI2032

Tam

Hello internets, it's me, Tam. I'm a spunky, red-headed, public health enthusiast with aspirations of one day becoming the Surgeon General. I document the moments when life is hard/funny/bearable and the things that make my heart smile. July 4, 2008 I married a medical student. He really is the “man of my dreams,” cliché I know, but I did have a lot of dreams about him before we got hitched. He killed me in one of them.

If you can excuse my runonsentences and poor comma usage, I invite you to stay awhile. Laugh with me!